


Vanjie!!! on Ice

by Thankyoumissvanjie (caringis_notanadvantage)



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Hurt & Comfort, Mental Health Issues, figure skating, probably more hurt than not, yuri on ice - au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2020-10-30 03:03:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20807477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caringis_notanadvantage/pseuds/Thankyoumissvanjie
Summary: "My name is Vanessa Mateo, but everybody be calling me Miss Vanjie! I’m the numero uno top senior ladies skater of the Caribbean. Breaking down barriers for all my fellow Latina hoes, best believe! I’m 19 years old, and while I might seem tough, I still finished last at my first Grand Prix Final.I was messier than a mess! It was ‘sposed to be my time… Well, guess I was being a dumb idiot to think I could ever compete against the ice goddess that is Brooke Lynn Hytes."Get ready to meet all of our favourite queens... This time on the ice.





	1. Must the show go on? The Grand Prix final of Tears!!

**Author's Note:**

> I was bullied and then this happened. The story will follow loosey and then also very much not loosely Yuri!!! On Ice. 
> 
> There will probably be some figure skating lingo that is less understandable for someone who is new to that. But really.. All you need to know is that they are ladies that jump on the ice. 
> 
> Other than that. Get ready for a ride. <3

_The soft piano notes filled the tiny dorm room as a beautiful blonde skater on the screen began her program._

_The gentle and almost flowing movements were perfectly in-sync with the music._

_Vanessa, huddled underneath her duvet, was watching every twist and turn with rapt attention, her eyes wide in amazement and then-_

_“Holy! She's just landed a triple Axel-triple toe loop in the second half of her program. Trust Brooke Lynn Hytes to always come up with something new.”_

_Vanessa gasped loudly at the way Brooke could make every jump look so effortless._

_Brooke never failed to surprise her. Ever since she had first seen her skating it had been an unending chain of surprises._

_She was a legend. Having won back to back World Championships two years in a row. The first woman to land a triple axel in the second half of her program, first senior woman to land a quad in the second half. She held all the records, had managed to win two Olympic golds._

_Brooke Lynn Hytes was a skating royalty on the same level as Yuzuru Hanyu._

_Vanjie wanted nothing more than to skate on the same ice as her. To compete against the very best._

_To be in the presence of her idol._

_Would be everything._

_As Brooke hit her final pose, Vanjie found herself clapping along with the audience. Not caring that she was not at the stadium, but sitting in her own room, staring intently at the stream on her iPad._

_One day she would skate against her._

_One day._

_————————————-_

The loud cheers felt almost painful as Brooke’s skates hit the ice. The gold medal around her neck sparkling from all the camera flashes.

Her white teeth were showing as she smiled charmingly, her poise and beauty the perfect picture of a winner. Behind her stood Katya and Yvie, their necks adorned with the silver and bronze medals.

_“She’s also crushed the free skating event! It will be a third consecutive Grand Prix Final gold for Canada’s legend, Brooke Lynn Hytes.”_

The announcer’s voice rang out from the speakers as Brooke held up her gold medal giving it a gentle kiss, posing for the camera as the clicks of the cameras seemed to reach a crescendo.

To the casual spectator, Brooke looked overjoyed with her win. Her smile and excitement were seemingly genuine. Though, if you looked a little closer you could hint a certain coldness not caused by the ice she was standing on, her eyes sad and tired.

_“Hytes is 22 years old, and a lot have speculated that she might retire this season, but her amazing performance tonight has definitely put all of those rumours to rest.”_

Away from all the glory and excitement on the ice, in a hallway out back, Vanjie was sitting looking intently at her phone. The pink cover adorned with cute poodles clashing with her long fake nails and dramatic costume, skates still on, even though she had already finished her program.

She looked frail, sitting in a shitty plastic chair, with her hair hiding away her face. The slump of her shoulders betraying her disappointment.

_“At the other end, we have Vanessa Mateo, who earned a spot in the Grand Prix Final for the first time. What do you think, Ted?”_

As she was scrolling through her Twitter feed, Vanjie's eyes fell on an article with her name in the headline. Her grip tightening as she clicked on the link, knowing that she was being a masochistic little shit, and not caring about it.

**“Miss Vanjie Defeated: Still Needs to Work on Nerves”.**

_“Well, today she certainly wasn’t the talented and energetic lady that we’ve all come to love. Which was odd, given her amazing performance in last night’s short program.”_

Sitting next to her was her coach, Alexis, though everybody just called her "Bam Bam". Her arm was around her shoulder, trying to cheer up her protegee.

“Ness, don’t look at the news, it won’t make you feel better. Let’s just go back to the hotel.” Her voice was gentle, knowing that being forceful with Vanessa was the fastest way to having an angry teenager on your hands.

“‘Mateo Fell to the Last Place. Is This Season Her Last?’ You tell me, ESPN, you motherfucking tell me,” contrary to Vanjie’s usual loud foghorn voice, she was almost whispering the words as she kept on scrolling through her news feed, getting bombarded with gifs of all her falls and mistakes.

“‘Ness…”

\------------------------

**"Whatever happened to Miss Vanjie at the Grand Prix Final?" - 10:23 (Private Video) **

_"My name is Vanessa Mateo, but everybody be calling me Miss Vanjie! Now I don't know why the fuck I be explaining this, cause this video ain't ever getting posted, but here we go! I’m the numero uno top senior ladies skater of the Caribbean. Breaking down barriers for all my fellow Latina hoes, best believe! I’m 19 years old, and while I might seem tough, I still finished last at my first Grand Prix Final." She was sitting in a non-descriptive room, the wall behind her beige. Her long brown hair was in a messy bun, while her face was clear of make up._

_"I am still pretty embarrassed ‘bout that," She looked away from the camera, as her voice lowered. The camera shook a bit, but then she seemed to gather herself. Taking a deep breath and once again looking into her lens._

_"I even hauled my ass to a rink in L.A. to make it to the final. But my stupid ass mind got me all up in my feelings, and I didn’t eat for days before the final, and then…" The pause seemed ess intended and more necessary, as a small sob escaped her lips, "and then my dog died." _

_The video cut off for a moment, and then it returned. Vanjie was still sitting in front of the beige wall, but this time her eyes were a bit red. Looking closer it was clear that she cried not long before she started filming, as her cheeks appeared to be a bit damp. _

_"I was messier than a mess! It was ‘sposed to be my time… Well, guess I was being a dumb idiot to think I could ever compete against the ice goddess that is Brooke Lynn Hytes."_

* * *

Thankfully, the restroom was blissfully empty. Vanjie had run in there to hide and to somehow find the courage to call her mom.

She had postponed it all evening, but now, after having done interviews and viewed her almost record-breakingly bad free program, she was ready to just get it over with. She felt like a disappointment, knowing how much energy, time and money her mama had put into her getting the chance to realise her dreams.

“Hi mama, hey. Did I interrupt you at the café?”

_“My beautiful baby girl! I saw you on the tele, ¡ay mí corazon, mí hija!”_

“Qué, you was watching on the tv?”

_“Baby, we were all watching you! Tía Kiki y Silky, your little brother even watched for a whole minute. We’re all so proud of you!”_

“No, mama, please don’t tell me you had them all over to watch.” Her eyes were burning with unshed tears, the embarrassment at knowing that everybody had seen her fail. Her friends and family.

Though it had been years since Vanjie had been back home for the last time, she still felt like she had something to prove. Not only on the ice but also to her hometown, to her country.

“Mama, I’m sorry, I messed up.” Vanjie cursed herself for getting emotional, knowing that her mother would get nervous for her daughter, especially with her being so far away. Before she had any chance to cheer her up, Vanjie hung up.

She gripped her phone tightly, as she started sobbing loudly into her hands. Her tiny body was shaking as she finally let go.

The chagrin at her placement, the sorrow over losing Riley, and the anger at her self-sabotaging.

It was all too much.

She would have continued her sob-fest if it hadn’t been for a loud knock on the door followed by a tiny cough.

It almost made Vanjie drop her phone, the shock of realising that she wasn’t alone and that someone had heard her ugly crying making her cheeks flare up.

She quickly dried her eyes and opened the door coming face to face with the tall and beautiful Junior Grand Prix Final gold medalist…

_Plastique ‘Tiara’ Edwards._

Although she was four years younger than Vanjie, she was both larger in presence and body. Her perfect complexion, long limbs and luscious locks making Vanjie feel inferior in comparison.

Plastique was looking her up and down, her nose slightly wrinkled and her hip cocked to one side. She looked unimpressed as if she found Vanessa lacking in every single category.

“So, I’ll be competing in the Senior Division next year, and I think it would be better for you if you just retired already. I can’t deal with cry babies when I need to focus on the gold,” her high pitch voice sounded bored as she pointed one long finger in Vanjie’s face.

The sharp point of the sparkly nail made her gulp, feeling weirdly intimidated, even though Vanjie knew that she could take down the pretty princess in front of her in a second.

Somehow, that thought didn’t comfort her, as Plastique leaned closer to her, getting all up in her face.

“Loser,” the word was whispered with such contempt, that it felt more like a slap. As Vanjie kept silent, Plastique merely tutted and left the toilet.

Her words only seemed to underline the truth that Vanjie felt deep in her heart. She was old news. This had been her chance at success and she had blown it. Next season there would be a ton of talented skaters, who were both younger and better than her.

Maybe she should just retire.

* * *

Thankfully, Alexis found her in the bathroom after the tears had dried up and all the evidence of her breakdown was long gone.

Given her low placement, Vanjie didn’t really have anything left to do at the arena - she knew that she wouldn’t be asked to perform in the Gala happening the day after, and she had no interest in staying and watching the Men’s final.

Alexis understood her need to leave and quickly gathered up all her stuff.

“Mateo!” The voice of Yara Sofia, the famous figure skating commentator, stopped both Vanjie and Alexis in their tracks as they were walking through the foyer on their way to the hotel.

The large and spacious area was bustling with a mix of fans, skaters, and journalists. All of them craning their necks, hoping to catch a glimpse or two of some of the medal winners, while there seemed to be an on-going buzz about the men’s competition, which was about to begin shortly.

“Hi, Yara.” Vanjie didn’t want to stop and talk. Her body tired, while her mind was running 200 miles per second. Her ADHD brain not dealing well with all the people and the sounds. In fact, the only place her mind would ever be quiet was on the ice - the whole reason why she got into figure skating in the first place.

“Don’t give up, hon! You’re only 19, you got more to give! It’s too early for you to retire!” Her eyes were soft, though her voice was hard, the heavy Hispanic accent making Vanjie miss her mama more than ever.

“Who be talking about me retiring? I ain’t making any decisions yet!” Vanjie tried to sound cheerful, though the words felt ashy in her mouth, while her chest ached.

Hadn’t she made a decision? The way she had packed up her gear almost felt like a goodbye as if that was the last time she would ever do it.

“I know that they are speculating, but come on…” Yara’s voice faded out as Vanjie’s eyes feel on a woman holding a tiny dog.

_Riley._

Her heart clenched, almost making her double over in pain as she thought about the last time she had held her dog in her arms. It had been too long, and now she would never-

No. She couldn’t think about that.

Wouldn’t. Not now.

“Will you keep going? Or maybe move back home to Puerto Rico?” At the mention of home, Vanjie felt the tears stubbornly force their way out.

“I can’t go home,” the thought of looking her mother in the eye, knowing that all she saw would be how big of a disappointment she was. Vanjie had always been too aware of the amount of money and time her mother had sacrificed to make her daughter’s dream come true.

What had Vanjie done with that?

Failed.

As she was slowly descending into her usual spiral of self-doubt and anxiety, something in the corner of her eyes caught her attention.

Like in a scene from a movie, Brooke Lynn seemed to be walking in slow motion as she entered the foyer, followed closely by her coach, Alyssa Edwards, and her rink mate Plastique.

Everything about her was mesmerising: from her red and white tracksuit embroidered with the word Canada to her almost platinum locks, she was a walking dream.

Vanjie was never sure if she wanted to be Brooke or simply just bang her.

Probably both.

“Plastique…” even when Brooke sounded annoyed, her voice managed to send a shiver running down Vanjie’s spine.

Jesus, she was whipped by a woman she had never had a single conversation with.

Pathetic.

“Listen, about your free... the flying sit spin could use some more-” Brooke was looking intently at Plastique, trying to give her pointers. They were both still wearing their gold medals that glittered in the overhead light.

What Vanjie would give to be criticised by Brooke.

Plastique clearly didn’t share that wish, as she threw back her head with a groan, making Brooke stop mid-sentence.

“What. Ever. I won, so who gives a fuck? Quit nagging, B. Like honestly…” As she trailed of, she was puffed not so gently on the shoulder by the legendary Alyssa Edwards, who incidentally, was also her aunt.

“Hey, Tiara! Don’t you get testy with the talent!” Plastique didn’t appear to be bothered by the sharp tone of her coach, as she looked over her manicured nails, sighing loudly.

Vanjie should probably focus back on whatever Yara was saying to her, but before she had a chance to even move, Brooke glanced back and looked directly at Vanjie, making her gasp.

Her face blossomed into a warm smile that made Vanjie’s knees weak.

Holy shit.

Brooke Lynn Hytes was smiling. At her.

“Oh, you want to take a selfie? Sure.” Her pleasant tone and cute smile did nothing to soften the blow created by her words.

She had been so bad, that Brooke didn’t even know that Vanjie was a fellow competitor. Instead of answering her, she quickly turned around, feeling the exhaustion of the day suddenly hit her hard.

Vanjie didn’t need nor want Brooke to see that her offer of a picture had made her cry.

Fuck that skinny, white bitch for not even knowing her competitors.

With no care for her coach or Yara’s protest, she simply walked away, the squeaky sound of her suitcase’s battered plastic wheels the only thing she could focus on.

The humiliation turned into anger.

At herself for thinking that she could finally meet her idol on the same playing field.

At Yara for posing idiotic questions.

And at Brooke. For being such a beautiful and perfect skater.

* * *

**One year later**

The sun was shining brightly on a cloud-free sky and the wind was nothing but a soft breeze. Spring in Puerto Rico was still hotter than need be, though the dry heat instantly made Vanjie feel right at home as she exited the Rafael Hernández International Airport.

She was dragging her large suitcases behind her, trying to not fall under their weight. As she looked up, her eyes hidden behind enormous sunglasses, she caught sight of someone she hadn’t even thought would know that she was arriving.

“Kiki? What you be doing here?” Vanjie had planned to catch a bus back home, hoping to take the back entrance into her mother’s B&B, so she wouldn’t have to deal with family for a couple of hours.

Dealing with her mamá’s fussing, her baby brother’s teasing, and the rest of the family’s doting and commenting, was something she needed to work her way up to.

At least, that had been the plan.

No such luck, though.

Right next to the entrance, her tía was leaning against her beat-up yellow Volkswagen, her sunglasses perched on top of her head.

She looked good. Her big hair all over the place, while her almost inhumane hourglass figure was pushed into a tight bodycon dress.

Trust Kiki to always look ready for the club, even on a Tuesday afternoon.

“That the hello you be giving your tía after 3 years, Mija? Get over here, gimme a hug!” The wide smile on her face made Vanjie drop her suitcases and almost jump right into her arms. She smelled of spices and perfume.

She smelled of home, which made the pit in her stomach grow bigger. The guilt at having stayed away for over three years tasting ashy and wrong.

“How did you even know to be here?” Vanjie hugged Kiki tighter, her words almost incomprehensible as they were muffled against her arm.

“You think your mama hasn’t been talking non stop about her little baby girl coming home? I swear, she almost closed her place down to come and get you, boo.” The idea of her mother having closed just for her instantly made Vanjie break the embrace, her mind already trying to calculate the lost hours of income.

“Fuck, tell me she didn’t-” A finger on her lips shut her up as A’keria raised an eyebrow, clocking the beginning of her anger seeping out before Vanjie herself had even realised what was about to happen.

“I’m here, ain’t I?” her calm voice and warm eyes instantly making Vanjie cool down.

Her mother was at home. Working. Not wasting her valuable hours on her failure of a daughter.

Thank God.

“Now, come here and lemme look at you… Vanjie, girl, what’s up with this skinny ass look? How you be jumping triples with them matchstick legs?” Her words made Vanjie want to hide away.

Alexis always looked after her, nagging and pestering her to eat something. It wasn’t that Vanjie hated eating, she was just picky.

After the disaster that had been last season’s Grand Prix Final, she had spent less time on the ice and more time wallowing in self-pity. With no one around to keep a close eye on her eating habits, she had just kind of forgotten.

Her diet consisting of green apples, coffee, and granola bars on most days.

It had made her muscles slowly disappear. Which meant that her form had been bad when she showed up at US National Championships. That, in turn, resulted in her scoring lower than back when she had been a junior.

What a screw-up she was.

“Kiki…” She really didn’t want to get into it now, hoping that her pleading voice and sincere eyes would make her stop.

“You forgotten to eat again?” Grabbing one of Vanjie’s heavy bags, she tutted loudly “No worries, your mama will get some meat on those bones in no time!” Popping open the back of her car, she signalled for Vanjie to help her throw in the bags.

It was time to see her mom.

* * *

The soft clangs of cooking coming from the kitchen seemed to drift into the café area, where all the regular patrons were sitting, enjoying their respite from the sun.

In front of them were cool drinks and pastries. Newspapers spread out over the tables right next to knitwork and gossip magazines.

The small television was buzzing softly, the sounds from the program mixing with the guitar playing on the radio.

_“To no one’s surprise, Canada’s Brooke Lynn Hytes is in first place after her record-breaking Short Program here at the World Figure Skating Championships. This year, she might be feeling a bit more pressure as she is on her home turf in beautiful Montreal!”_

On the screen Brooke was walking as if she was feeling none of this alleged pressure, her hair falling in perfect waves and the smile on her face poised, perfect and professional.

Alyssa was right beside her, the former world champion looking just as professional as her student. The cameras clicked and lighted up both of their faces.

None of them flinched.

_“It will be interesting to see if she can keep this up. Being at the top of her game at the age of 23 is not only impressive, but it’s also almost unbelievable. This might be the last time we’ll ever see the Queen of the North on the ice. The Free Program will start later today at 7 PM,”_

As the camera cut back to the studio, the door to the café opened with a bang, making everyone turn away from the tele to see what had caused the commotion.

“Anabell! I am home, and I brought back someone special!” At A’keria’s loud voice a high pitch scream of delight could be heard as a tiny woman came running from the kitchen, her arms almost choking Vanessa.

Words were pouring out of her at a neck-breaking speed, Vanjie trying hard to focus on the words, while also carefully breaking her mother’s surprisingly strong hold on her.

“Ma! Calm down, Jesus, woman. You don’t need to be killin’ me just ‘cause you happy to see me,” Her voice was slightly strained against her mother’s hold, though she reluctantly released Vanjie at her words.

Her mother was just as petite, beautiful and warm as she had been back when Vanjie first left three years ago. She knew that people would still mistake them for sisters if they walked next to each other.

Vanjie had missed her so much.

“Mija, be nice to your mamá, I haven’t seen your beautiful face in three years.” Her fingers pushed her face left and right, looking her over as if they hadn’t spoken with each other on Skype every week ever since she left the island, “Ay, Dios mio, what is this? You nothing but skin and bone. What they done to you, Mi Cielo?” The horror in her mother’s voice almost made Vanjie laugh out loud, but knowing that it would earn her a slap on the back of her head, she held it back.

“Mamá. I just been workin’ hard. All that training and studyin’, you know?” Vanjie knew that her mom saw through her lies, but hoped that she would let it go.

A tall order, but a girl could hope.

“Okay, Tesoro. Go get your bags up to your room, I haven’t touched a single thing.” Vanjie started lugging the bags after her, hurrying up the stairs. Her mother’s voice followed her, “after that you be eating, Mija! I made your favourite!”

It was weird to be back home.

* * *

The mouthwatering smell of Anabell’s famous arroz y habichuelas drifted through the air as Vanjie came down the stairs.

She had spent longer than she had first intended in her room. Being met with her impressive collection of Brooke Lynn Hytes's merch and posters had been an interesting experience - one that had ended in a long shower and a minor existential crisis.

One that she would not focus on now.

_“Group 2 has now finished skating, and it’s Violet Chachki from France who’s in first. Her free skate performance, befitting of a season finale, was completely free of mistakes, which has earned her a personal best”_

The television was still on NBC, showing the ladies' free program, even though Vanjie knew that there was football on some channel.

The fact that Kiki was fiercely guarding the remote, while she looked intently at the screen, quickly explained the choice of the channel.

“Dammit, ‘Ness. We could be there right now if you hadn’t choked. I coulda been getting some skater dick right about now.” Slowly shaking her head, she hadn’t noticed that Vanjie had walked into the room, overhearing her.

_“The last group has just entered the arena for their warm-up. All eyes are on Brooke Lynn Hytes, who’s going for her third consecutive World Championship gold, and fourth in total”_

“Should have known you only cared ‘bout my skating, so you could get yourself a mans, Kiki.” A’keria jumped in surprise at Vanjie’s loud voice.

“That’s not true! I’ve been supporting you! Getting me a man is just bonus, Bebe! You want your poor tía to end up all alone, Mija?” A’keria didn’t even seem embarrassed as she wagged her eyebrows at Vanjie, who was just shaking her head at her tía, while also trying, and failing, to keep her smile at bay.

A’keria looked her up and down, noticing that she was holding a large bag in one hand.

“Going over to the rink?”

“Yeah, I need to clear my head.”

“Have fun, boo.”

* * *

The bell above the door chimed as Vanjie pushed her way inside. The nostalgia of being inside her old home rink hit her in full force.

The faded yellow colour on the walls coupled with the lowering in temperature felt like an old friend.

“¡Ay! We closed up in here. Come back tomorrow,” the gruff voice of the woman standing behind the desk, who was arranging the rental skates, made Vanjie’s smile widen.

“You still a rude ass hoe, Silk?” At her words, Silky dropped one of the skates on the floor, twirling around faster than you could say. “All you can eat buffet”, her eyes comically large with excitement.

“Holy fucking shit, Miss Vanjie! What you doing back here, girl?” She was waving her closer, motioning for a hug, not caring about the awkwardness of the desk between them.

Silky and she went way back. Having grown up next to each other they were thick as thieves. Always getting into trouble with their stupid ideas. Vanjie still fondly remembered the time they had stolen a moped from Pablo down the street.

Those had been the days.

Silky had been there next to her the first time she tried skating, as her parents owned the rink. She had cheered her on from the sidelines and clapped when she landed her very first single axel. Spent hours at the rink with her, going over program ideas.

They had cuddled up in her bed, eating Cheetos and watching a shitty stream from the World Championships.

Silky had always been there. She understood what the ice meant to her.

It was Silky, who had been next to her the first time she saw Brooke Lynn skate.

Silky who understood how much Vanjie idolised her.

Silky who had been standing next to her, giving her mama pleading eyes, trying to convince her that Vanjie should get a cat, because, “look, Brooke Lynn’s got one”.

It had been Silky who had patted Vanjie on her shoulder when Anabelle agreed to a dog instead. Telling her that a pet was a pet, and maybe Brooke Lynn liked dogs too.

Silky.

Always Silky.

“You betcha, bitch!”

“It’s about time. I’m guessing you be wanting to cut up some ice? I see them lines round yo eyes. You need to vent a bit to the skating Gods?” Silky’s knowing eyes made Vanjie feel guilty for staying away from the island for so long.

“That okay?” She knew her voice was small, as she felt a bit guilty about assuming that she could just waltz in and claim the ice as her own.

As if she hadn’t been gone for over three years.

“Boo, these doors have always been open for your skinny ass, go do your magic!”

* * *

Out in the foyer of the rink, an old television was turned on, the scratchy sounds of a cheering audience drifting all the way down to the ice where a lonely figure was slowly edging her way around.

_“This is it. For our final competitor, we have Brooke Lynn Hytes from Canada. Judging by the cheers of the audience, it clear that the Queen of the North has returned home. She has set a world record earlier this season with this program, now it’s time to see if she is going to do that again. She is skating to Celine Dion’s “All Coming Back To Me Now,”, and she has done the choreography herself.”_

“Yo, Silk. Will you film this for me? I been practising it for a while.” Vanjie skated to the middle of the ice, back straight and body poised.

Before even answering, Silky already had her phone ready, three years apart not enough to break her habit of always having her phone ready to film Vanjie on the ice.

“Whenever you ready, hoe.” Hitting the record button as Vanjie spread her arms with a level of elegance usually reserved for princesses and queens, Silky’s brow wrinkled as the pose reminded her of someone else.

Someone tall, blonde and the current obsession of a certain Miss Mateo.

** _There were nights when the wind was so cold_ **  
** _That my body froze in bed if I just listened to it_ **  
** _Right outside the window_ **

_“Brooke Lynn has planned a single quad and two triple axels in the program, and here comes the first, and she sticks the landing. Perfect execution right into a twizzle. Look at those GOEs.”_

Vanjie’s foot left the ice with a loud wosh, as she rotated 2.5 times around herself, before she landed perfectly, her body spinning right into a beautiful twizzle.

“Holy shit, she’s doing Hytes’s program,” Silky whispered to herself as Vanjie got ready to jump again, doing a beautiful triple flip triple-toe loop combination, once again landing clear.

Even though she was skating in a quiet and abandoned skating rink, Silky could hear the music as Vanjie hit every note and beat.

Out in the foyer, the applause was deafening as Brooke Lynn got ready to jump her signature jump.

** _But when you touch me like this_ **  
** _And you hold me like that_ **  
** _I just have to admit_ **  
** _That it's all coming back to me_ **

_“Here it is. The jump she is known and loved for. And yes. A Quadruple Lutz, wow. Ted, I don’t think she’s ever landed it that clean before.”_

_“No, I agree, Yara. That was like butter.”_

Down on the ice, Vanjie had landed a perfect Triple Lutz, her edge clear, as she started on the heartfelt step sequence, her feet dancing across the ice.

This was what Vanjie excelled at. Her high energy level and emotional personality translating gracefully into every inch of her body.

She had more feeling in a single pinky than most people manage to convey with their whole being.

She was exquisite as her skates carved a story of love, loss, and longing all across the ice.

Silky felt her eyes burn with unshed tears, the utter beauty of Vanjie’s skating almost too much for her.

Vanjie eyes hid nothing, her inability to be anything but authentic and real on the ice both her biggest strength and weakness.

** _There were moments of gold and there were flashes of light_ **  
** _There were things I'd never do again_ **  
** _But then they'd always seemed right_ **

_“And she’s saved the most difficult for last. A triple axel-triple loop combination. Not something we see that often in the ladies' competition and… She’s done it. She’s landed all her jumps!”_

Almost in sync with the Brooke Lynn on the screen out in the foyer, Vanjie was doing a graceful combination spin, her left leg behind her in a perfect Biellmann, before she quickly got into the final pose, her hand reaching out as if she was trying to grasp someone.

Her breathing was heavy, face flushed.

The faint sound of cheering and applause filtered down to the rink.

“BITCH! What the actual fuck, that was freaking amazing, and here I be afraid that you was all depressed and shit,” Silky’s voice dragged Vanjie out of her skating induced trance. Skating over to her friend on the sideline, a small smile found its way across her lips.

“I mean… I was humi-, humilililat- Bitch, I was embarrassed. But then I thought to myself ‘Miss Vanjie, what would Hytes do?’ and then I just started practising her program. It’s just for shits and giggles tho.” For some reason, Vanjie wanted to downplay the hours she had spent at the rink trying to replicate this specific routine.

It felt weird to admit that it had been the only thing keeping her from having a real breakdown back in L.A. Alexis hadn’t said anything about it.

“Vanj… That was almost a perfect replica of a record-breaking free program.” The narrowing of Silky’s eyes told Vanjie that her skills of deception were still useless.

“I ain’t doing no quads or triple axels, tho,” her voice held a note irritation, knowing that she was always playing catch up with Brooke.

“You ain’t doing no quads or triple axels… Yet.” For a single moment, everything was quiet as they looked at each other.

Then.

They both burst into loud cackles, sounding like a crossover between a truck backfiring and a squealing pig.

* * *

The rising sun was what woke her.

She had forgotten to close the blinds in her exhaustion after she got back home from the rink. The travelling coupled with performing a full free program enough to make her head heavy and her body tired.

All she had managed to do was eat a bit before she went off to sleep. Her mother ruffling her hair with a look of contentment.

She tried to open her phone but was met with a black screen. Her dumb ass having forgotten to connect it to her charger before she went to bed.

Classic.

Opening her computer, she looked up the post-competition interviews from last night, needing her daily fix of Hytes.

_“What do you have in mind for next season?_” the reporter sounded interested, though Vanjie knew that most of them were vultures that only cared for gossip and less about the answer.

The question in itself was stupid.

Asking about next season, barely moments, after Brooke had won the World Championship for the third time in a row, seemed ridiculous.

The fact that Brooke Lynn didn’t roll her eyes, but instead simply shrugged was a whole mood.

She really was that bitch.

Just as Vanjie was about to open up a different video, her phone vibrated.

She quickly unlocked it and opened it.

Suddenly, the phone wouldn’t stop vibrating. Her twitter and Instagram notifications going insane.

“What the hell?” she muttered to herself, as she clicked on one of them, wondering why everyone was suddenly trying to come in contact with her.

Before her Twitter app had the chance to load, the beat-up iPhone started ringing.

_Big Silk is calling you._

“Sup, Boo?” Vanjie got up from the bed, searching for her headset, so she could talk with Silky while investigating all these mentions.

_“Okay… Don’t get mad…”_ Her friends voice trailed off, her tone signalling that Vanjie would with 99.99% certainty get real mad in about ten seconds.

“Bitch, whenever you be sayin’ that I always end up popping off like a goddamn popcorn. What did ya do?” Knowing Silky it could be anything from having told her Mamá that she was thinking about quitting Uni to forgetting that they were supposed to meet later in the day.

_“So… The video of you doing Brooke’s free program that I recorded?”_ Silky’s tentative voice created a pit in Vanjie´s stomach.

“Yea, what about it?”

_“I kinda posted it on YouTube…”_ Her stomach clenched in sheer terror at Silky’s words.

“No, Silk… No.” The words fell from her lips, almost like a prayer, hoping that what Silky was saying wasn’t true.

But.

The notifications.

_“And, Uhm, it kinda went viral.”_ Silky’s voice was apologetic, as Vanjie was sat frozen on the bed.

The mentions.

Fuck.

“You-” Vanjie felt her blood boil, her emotions skipping past mortification and jumping straight to pure fury.

_“Sis, I’m so sorry!"_ Silky tried to apologize, but Vanjie was on a roll.

“Motherfucking-" Her voice was getting louder with every syllable. The pitch getting closer to reaching a crescendo as her anger made her feel like a boiling kettle.

_“Vanj, I forgot to make it private, I didn’t mean to, I swear!"_ Silky was nervously laughing, which usually got her out of any tight situation.

Not this one, though.

“Son of a waffle-eating bitch,” in her rage, Vanjie found herself jumping up on the bed, screaming the insult, not caring that it was dumb or that she was waking some of the guests there.

That program had been for herself, it wasn’t supposed to be shown to anyone.

Fuck, what if Brooke had seen it?

She would probably laugh at her bad attempt at impersonating her style.

Vanjie was breathing heavily, feeling as if her world was ending, while Silky was quiet on the other end of the line.

_“... wanna know how many hits?”_ The question was asked with a hint of mischievousness that was pure Silky.

Who was Vanjie kidding, she could never really be mad at her best friend.

“Will it make me want to snipe yo ass?” dumping back down on her bed in pure resignation, her shoulders slumped, as she tried to calm the break-neck speed of her heart.

It would be fine.

It wasn’t as if she was ever going to meet Hytes again.

_“For sure,”_ Vanjie could hear Silky’s grin over the line, it made her smile, even if her best friend was a massive chaos agent.

“Hit me,” Vanjie grabbed one of her many pillows on the bed, bracing herself for impact, hoping that it was only a couple of thousands who had seen her pitiful attempt at mimicking a world champion, legend and actual living goddess on earth.

No biggie.

_“...93.000,”_

“You leaky waterbed hoe!”

* * *

**A Week later**

It had taken a while for Vanjie to get over the video. After having yelled at Silky for an hour or two, calling her everything from a hoe to a wrinkly meatball, Vanjie had calmed down enough to actually watch the video.

**Vanessa Mateo Attempts To Skate Brooke Lynn Hytes’ FS “All Coming Back To Me” - 4:23**

Vanjie tried and failed to not be offended about the fact that Silky had even written in the title that it was only an “attempt”.

_Shady bitch._

After that, Vanjie had to take a break from social media, knowing that she couldn’t deal with reading all the bullshit that people were probably writing about her.

Instead, she had spent time at the rink, banning Silky from even thinking about recording her trainings.

She only came home at night. Knowing that her mother would throw a fit, if she didn’t get to spend some time with her favourite (and only) daughter, now that she was actually home for once.

Returning back to the B&B after yet another day on the ice, Vanjie was met with a somewhat familiar grey cat.

“That looks like… No, it can’t be,” she whispered to herself, as the cat rubbed against her bare legs.

“Tesoro, ain’t that a cute kitty? Some tall and pale woman brought it with her. There’s one more hiding somewhere around here, Mija,” Her mother’s head poked out from the kitchen, a wide smile on her lips.

Vanjie felt frozen right there at the entrance.

Pale. Tall.

Two cats.

It couldn’t be.

“She out in the garden doing some yoga,” The words hadn’t even left Anabell’s mouth before Vanjie was running out there, hoping beyond hope that her gut was wrong.

“Mija, where you going?” She ignored her mother’s words, as she burst out in the garden.

There, in the middle of the grass, doing a motherfucking handstand, was Brooke Lynn Hytes.

Her pale skin was almost luminescent, sweat drops slowly trickling down her skin. The bright red booty shorts and sports bra the only thing she was wearing.

Vanjie was confused, aroused and terrified.

In that order.

“B-Brooke? Why are you here?” Her voice seemed to startle Brooke, as she gracefully rolled onto her back, before she stood up with a flourish, turning to look at Vanjie with a small smile. Her face lightly flushed.

She is so fucking beautiful.

“Vanessa. Starting today, I will be your coach, and I’ll make you win the Grand Prix Final.” The conviction behind her words was so pure, that for a moment Vanjie believed her.

But then Brooke winked at her, and the words finally registered with her.

“I’m sorry? What the shit did you just say?”


	2. Life in Plastique? It Ain’t that Fantastique

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> almost 9k of skating drama. Enjoy you guys!!!

_Brooke, huddling in a thick jacket, numerous stylish suitcases next to her, was staring at Alyssa. Her coach, mentor, and the only person Brooke would ever dare to think of as a mother - though she would never say that out loud._

_The snow was softly falling all around them in flurries. It all looked picturesque. Except, it really wasn’t. Alyssa was staring unimpressed at Brooke, her eyes thunderous with disappointment._

_“When I told you to get a grip, get a life and get over it, I meant do some yoga, not quit skating, Miss Brooke Lynn,” The biting tone was normally reserved for the rink, but Brooke Lynn’s decision to leave had left Alyssa feeling off-kilter._

_Alyssa always knew that her star student, her favourite, her almost-but-not-quite daughter would retire._

_But not now._

_Not like this._

_“I know, but I need to do this, Lyss,” Brooke’s smile was sad as she walked over to hug the shorter woman, trying to soak up all the comfort she could, knowing that it would probably be a while before she would get to feel it again. “You were the best coach I ever had. You always will be,” Brooke softly kissed her cheek, before she turned to walk back to her luggage, needing to get a move on so she wouldn’t be late for her flight._

_“If you leave the ice, you ain’t ever coming back, honey. Remember that,” Alyssa’s voice rang out behind her, making Brooke’s step falter. But she couldn’t turn around._

_Knowing that if she did, Alyssa would say something ridiculous and make her stay. Make her do one more season._

_One more time._

_She couldn’t._

_No more._

_So she continued on. Dragged the cases behind her in the snow, bustling her way through the airport. Trying to remember the last time she had gone through check-in without Alyssa by her side, and coming up empty._

_Swallowing the lump in her throat, she found her phone and sent off a text. Hoping beyond hope that Alyssa wouldn’t stay disappointed with her for too long._

** _I’m sorry that I can’t do as you say this time - B_ **

** _You don’t get to say that when you’ve never done as I’ve said in the first place! - A_ **

* * *

Kiki burst through the doors to Anabell’s café, her hair all over the place, heels clicking and breath heavy. Leaning forward, hands on her knees she sucked in a big gulp of air.

“Mija? Why you ain’t answering your goddamn phone?” her voice carried through the room, hoarseness of her voice a result of her sprint over to the

“Kiki? Why you yelling? Ay, you ran over here? Dios Mio, lemme get you some water,”

“Who cares about water? I heard that Brooke Lynn is going to coach Vanjie?”

“Oh? She’s out in the garden with ‘Nessa,”

“Que?!”

Looking out through the half-open door, she could glimpse Vanjie looking shell shocked at someone sitting next to her.

* * *

  
** _Am I dreaming or did Brooke Lynn Hytes just show up at my door?? (Private Video) - 7:21_ **

_Sitting inside her room, a towel around her head, makeup-free, wearing a ratty t-shirt, Vanjie looked shocked, snatched and pulled. She was looking directly at the camera, her eyes wide and her regular smile was gone, leaving her face looking more vulnerable than usual._

_“Bitches, I’m back, recordering this shit for everyone to see when I get famous y’all. You best believe my ADHD ass ain’t writing some book. You know my motto: ‘What would Rihanna do?’, and she ain’t wasting her time on words on paper either.” The snap of her fingers underlined that whatever Rihanna did, was what Vanjie would do. _

_No question about it._

_“Now I might be looking a bit bad at the moment, but y’all best believe that I am a top US figure skater. You probably be thinking that it be weird that I’m skating for the US when I am a proud Puerto Rican… But biiiiiish. We got one rink in the whole of the Caribbean. We more scared of snow than a cat in winter. So I had to haul my ass to America to have a chance at competing.”_

_“I went back home to try and clear my head, maybe figure out what the hell to do after I completely fell on my ass at the Grand Prix final. Multiple times. On camera. I’ve seen the GIFs you are all some hateful shady ass bitches!!”_

_“But then… Motherfucking Brooke Lynn Hytes shows up at my mum’s little B&B and tells me that she be wanting to coach me?? I mean???” Her eyes were wide as if she still couldn’t believe what had happened to her._

_“I still be pinching myself just to check I ain’t in some coma making up this shit on the fly. I mean. That boss ass bitch be a legend. It’s her ice and we just be skating on it.”_

_“I never… What she be doing here? With me, I don’t know. Why would she care about my falling ass is a mystery that be bigger than that Da Vinci movie,”_

* * *

Vanjie had left Brooke outside in the garden, the moment she had noticed A’keria, which was why she found herself sitting inside the café at one of the small tables, staring out through the open door to the garden, trying, but then not really, to not seem creepy as she looked at Brooke getting in a deep split.

Holy shit. It was one thing seeing your idol on the ice, a completely different thing to see her up close with the heart-shaped smile, perfect blue eyes and perfect skin.

Shit.

_Vanjie was fucked._

“What. The. Fuck. Is Brooke Lynn Hytes doing yoga outside in the garden?” A’keria’s voice brought her out of her stupor, as she turned to look at her aunt, dance coach and second-mother.

Kiki was staring at her with a wide-eyed look, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

Me fucking too, Kiki.

“She said something about her body needing a good stretch after being stuck in economy for hours?” Vanjie took a sip of the glass of water in front of trying, focusing on the way it soothed her dry throat, instead of the burning look that her aunt was giving her.

“Vanj, Bebé. Focus! This be all over the news - apparently, she’s taking the season off, to consider her next move. I read an article that talked ‘bout how your lil video made her feel all inspired and that why she’s here to coach you,” Her hand hit the table, making Vanjie’s glass jump for a moment. She looked almost frantic in her need to have Vanjie celebrate all that was going on.

Vanjie wasn’t ready to that. This all felt too unreal, too picture-perfect, Nicholas Sparks-y, here’s your rainbowy ending like.

This didn’t happen in real life, and certainly not to people like her.

“Shut up.” Her gaze was once again drawn to the Amazonian Goddess that was now lounging outside in the sun. She knew her answer was distracted, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

Brooke Lynn Motherfucking Hytes was outside in her garden. The shit??

“She came here ‘cause she sees potential, Mija! You brought her here. Do you understand the power that has, boo?” A’keria was staring at her in amazement, trying to make her see what an opportunity this was.

Before Vanjie had a chance to spit out a comeback, her attention was drawn to the tiny television across from the room, where Alyssa Edwards was getting interviewed.

_“Listen, Brooke Lynn has decided to take some time off from skating. Do I agree with her decision? No. But it’s not personal, it’s figure skating,”_ Despite the cool tone, Vanjie could tell that Alyssa was barely holding back her annoyance, as tried to look aloof and unbothered, standing in front of Toronto Cricket Club, soft snowflakes falling around her.

The journalists were all scampering, knowing that if you pushed Alyssa Edwards just right, she would give the best quotes in the business.

_“We’ve heard that she’s going to coach Vanessa Mateo in Puerto Rico-”_ The pushy reporter didn’t get to finish his sentence, as Alyssa held up a single perfectly manicured finger.

_“Allegedly.”_ The one word was delivered with an icy stare and a tongue pop. Before anyone got a chance to ask any follow-up questions, she calmly turned around and walked back into the skating club.

“Well… Seems like your girl has gone rogue just for you. What ya gonna do about that, missy?” The shit-eating grin on her face made Vanjie’s stomach turn into knots, the whole situation unreal, and the fact that her idol had essentially stopped her career for her. Vanessa Mateo seemed too much.

“She ain’t my girl, Kiki,” her mutter was low, as she looked back out at Brooke in the sun.

_What the fuck was going on?_

* * *

After what seemed like a lifetime, Brooke returned inside. Her nose was slightly red, freckles already sprinkled lightly over her heated skin. Wisps of blonde hair had escaped the bun on top of her head.

She looked better than a cup of coffee in the morning.

“I’m starving… I think the last time I ate, I was back in Toronto,” stretching her hands above her head, her red sports bra inching up a bit, her abs on full display, making Vanjie gulp.

_She was so gay._

“What you wanna eat? My mamá gots it all,” her mother was known all over the city as the best cook, the café her main income, as the B&B was empty most of the time.

Vanjie wished that she was better at sending money back home - but with no job and an expensive sport, it was difficult. She didn’t really have any big sponsorships or prize money.

In her darkest moments, she felt like the worst daughter, especially since her brother was picking up all her slack, working two jobs and helping out whenever he could.

Brooke’s voice coupled with a slight push from Kiki brought her out of her spiralling thought.

“As your coach, I think it’s important that I know what your favourite food is, Vanessa.” Her piercing gaze left no room for discussion.

“You sure ‘bout that, white girl? We like our food as hot as our weather here, ya know,” she still remembered the first time she had cooked for her roommate back in L.A.

Asia had been drinking milk for the rest of the night, cursing her for trying to burn off her tongue.

Vanjie had honestly thought that it could have used a little more chilli. Not that she would ever say that to her roommate.

“Did I stutter?” Brooke raised a single eyebrow at her, crossing her arms.

_Okay, white girl. You on._

* * *

  
Seeing Brooke almost inhale the bowl of Arroz y habichuelas, a spicy bowl of glorified rice and beans had been an experience. Vanjie was still in awe over the fact that this slim beauty, ate like a jock.

_Why the fuck did she find that hot?_

“This is amazing!” Brooke’s face seemed to light up in sheer happiness, looking at Vanjie with a big smile, seemingly not aware of the fact that the amount of spice she had just eaten, would normally take out any mainlander in less than two bites.

“How you not dead from the chilli, Flaca?” Vanjie couldn’t keep the incredulity out of her voice.

Brooke was sitting, empty bowl in front of her, with not a care in the world.

She hadn’t asked for milk or even broken a sweat.

“Alyssa adds hot sauce to everything, my taste buds died almost a decade ago.” Brooke shrugged slightly as she looked down at her lap, her cat Henry purring softly, as she scratched it behind its ear.

Vanjie wanted so badly to reach out and give the cat a good scratch too.

She had seen pictures of it ever since Brooke got it almost 7 years prior. Liking each Instagram post, sometimes screen capping it, and sending it to Silky, knowing that her friend was the only person who would ever truly understand the cuteness of this particular grey cat.

“Vanjie usually gets this whenever she wins a competition,” A’keria’s voice brought her out of her fluffy kitty induced daze, making her head snap up - belatedly realising that she had been staring intently at Brooke’s lap for who knows how long.

“Oh? You’ve had this recently?” Brooke leaned forward slightly, her eyes filled with some intense emotion that Vanjie couldn’t quite place.

“Yeah, Mamá been spoiling me ever since I came home,” Her mother had tried to shower Vanjie with love in any possible way, clearly noticing that she had been feeling down.

“Why? You haven’t won anything,” the raised eyebrow and icy voice made Vanjie go quiet, though Brooke continued without a single care for Vanjie’s reaction.

This. Shady. Hoe.

Brooke was looking her up and down, her brows wrinkled, as her eyes lingered on Vanjie's arms and legs that were fully on display in Vanjie’s Shorts and crop top get up.

“You’ve clearly lost a lot of weight and muscles. How I’m supposed to teach you if you don’t even have the body for it? You need to get back to your weight at last year’s Grand Prix Final, or I can’t coach you, understood?” She ended her spiel with a soft smile, though her eyes appeared to be searching her face for something.

Whatever it was, she seemed to find it as she nodded once, almost unconsciously and returned to petting Henry.

Brooke was right. Vanjie’s loss of leg muscles meant that her jumps were harder to rotate. The power she needed to get the correct height more difficult than ever to maintain.

That didn’t mean that her words weren’t hitting hard, though. As Vanjie was almost frozen across from Brooke. She could almost feel A’keria’s barely held back giggles.

Hateful bitch.

“‘Mija? Go put all the bags up into the big guest room for your friend, sí?” Before Vanjie had a chance to come up with a scathing reply, her mother’s loud voice broke through the stunned silence.

“Maaaaaa,” She couldn’t keep the groan out of her voice, as Vanjie had already seen the ridiculous amount of suitcases and boxes that were piled up in the corner of the café, and had kind of hoped that she wouldn’t have to deal with them.

“Vanessa Sofiá Mateo!” the usage of her full name had Vanjie up and running for the bags before her mother had even finished yelling the last syllable, the memory of all the times such a yell had been a precursor to a long and winding talking to mostly ended in her getting grounded.

She wasn’t risking it this time.

“I got it, Mamá!”

* * *

The almost ridiculous amount of what Vanjie was 99% sure was real and authentic Louis Vuitton suitcases seemed to dwarf the room. It was staggering that Brooke had thought to pack this much stuff for what seemed to be a trip that was planned on a whim.

“You gots a lot of stuff, Mami,” Vanjie was still panting having run up and down the stairs three times already. Brooke had ended up helping her, and Vanjie was definitely not in any way turned on by the fact that she had been able to lift everything with ease.

Nope.

Not at all.

“Lyssa always mentions it, saying that I need to Mari Kondo my life or something? Baby, does it spark any joy? Cause if not, it’s bye-bye” a small and sad smile appeared on Brooke’s lips as she trailed off, but before the sadness could truly take over, she visibly shook herself, seemingly forcing a bright smile on her face, as she clapped her hands “But I love this room, it’s small and quaint!”

Vanjie felt herself shrink inwards as Brooke pointed out how dingy and small the place was. She was probably used to Hilton suites and Egyptian cotton sheets, not this stamp of a room in a tiny and warm B&B.

“I’m sorry we ain’t gots something bigger,” Vanjie knew that she sounded like a little girl, apologising for something she couldn’t do a single thing about, but as much as she hated to admit it, she just wanted to impress Brooke.

Though that train had probably left the station years ago.

“What’s with that frown? No need to look that anxious, Vanessa. If this is about the coaching fees, how about we look at them after you start winning?” Brooke walked closer to her gathering her wringing hands in hers, the softness and warmth of Brooke’s touch stirring something deep within Vanjie’s stomach.

“Thanks, Brooke,” the offer hadn’t made Vanjie feel like a charity case.

It only felt kind.

“Now, tell me everything about you.” Brooke somehow managed to walk even closer, her breath hitting Vanjie’s cheek with a light puff, her voice low and sugary dangerous. One of her hands lightly touched Vanjie’s chin, forcing her to look up into those shining big blue eyes.

Vanjie wanted to answer but was struck by the sheer beauty of Brooke, the insanity of the situation and the tantalising sensation of her hand on her skin.

“What kind of rink do you skate at? What’s in this city? Is there a boy you like?” The questions hit her like rapid-fire, but Vanjie was struck dumb, her brain unable to comprehend the questions as it was hyper-aware of the way Brooke’s hand was lightly touching her, slowly moving up to cup her cheek.

“Before we start practising, let’s build some trust in our relationshi-“ before the word had fully left Brooke’s lips Vanjie had scrambled backwards, her heart in her throat and a light blush already dusting her cheeks.

Her back hit the wall next to the door with a loud bang, and for a second Brooke and Vanjie locked eyes, both of them startled by Vanjie’s reaction.

“Oh no, did I do it again? Nina’s always on my case about me being too much, too close, too soo-“ Brooke’s apologetic expression and rambling words were too much, making Vanjie want to curl up inside of herself for making Brooke look and sound like that.

Nina? Nina West? Why was she talking about Canada’s third best skater?

“NO!” Realising that she had yelled louder than she had intended to, as Brooke jumped at her volume, Vanjie lowered her voice slightly, hoping that she sounded less insane.  
“You… you just startled me that’s all. I gots to-I think my mama be needing some help, so imma go, yeah, uhm. Bye?” Before Brooke had a chance to stop her, Vanjie ran out of the room, hurrying her way over to her own room, not caring that she had essentially lied about where she had to go.

Closing the door behind her to her room, she leaned against it glancing around the room, and that was when she really, truly looked at her room.

Fuck.

Everywhere she looked the walls were plastered over with Brooke Lynn Hytes posters. Cut out pages from magazines, her iconic February 2014 cover of Time Magazine and multiple limited edition posters.

No fucking way, could Brooke Lynn Motherfucking Hytes ever see that she was this much a fan. No way.

She hurried to take down all the posters, mourning their loss as she did. Her walls seeming bare and desolate.

Just as she was looking for a place to stow them all a knock on her door startled her.

“Vanessa? We should do a sleepover, as your coach I need to know everything about you,”

Glancing at the embarrassingly large pile of posters in her hands her mind went blank as she found herself yelling the first and best thing.

“NO!”

The silence after was deafening, as Brooke seemed to wait for more, but Vanjie found herself stuck.

Her mouth was, for once in her goddamn life, closed while her brain was quiet.

“Okay, Vanessa. See you in the morning then,” Brooke’s voice held a sad note, that made Vanjie want to force open the door and apologise instantly. Instead, she found herself stuck against the door. Opening and closing her mouth, looking like a fish, the soft sounds of Brooke walking away from her door, made her heart beat faster.  
It would be easy to call out for her, and tell her to come back and that they could totally have a sleepover and watch The Notebook together.

But.

She didn’t.

Instead, she spent the rest of the night hiding in her room, afraid to leave for the possibility of being confronted once again with the fact that Brooke really was her. In Puerto Rico.

For her?

Her heart was beating fast, betraying her anxiety.

Yet, the smile on her face was impossible to misinterpret.

_She was happy._

* * *

The sound of Brooke’s off-key singing coupled with a cheerful ring from her bike was almost enough to drown out Vanjie’s heavy breathing, as she ran behind her.

From some reason her new coach was into torture from sunrise, as she had pushed open the door to Vanjie’s room at 6 AM, demanding that she should show her the rink she skated at.

Brooke didn’t seem to care that it was early, that Vanjie wasn’t a particularly nice person before 10 AM or that she was only wearing a tank top.

Brooke also hadn’t mentioned Vanjie’s rude and abrupt departure the night before. All she had done was to order Vanjie to eat a light breakfast and buckle up her running shoes.

As they arrived at the rink, Silky had almost passed out at seeing Brooke Lynn Hytes next to Vanjie. Her huge eyes, stammering hello and star-struck expression would have been hilarious if it hadn’t been for the fact that Vanjie knew that she had looked the same, the first time she had laid eyes on Brooke.

It was clear that Brooke had been eager to hit the ice, as she had excitedly grabbed Vanjie’s hand, dragging her along with her down to the rink.

Vanjie felt like she was floating on air, being this close to her long-time idol was still perplexing and dreamlike.

She stood rinkside with Silky, both of them mesmerised by Brooke’s lone figure on the ice.

In a pair of black training tights and a red long-sleeved crop top, she was a vision. After having slowly warmed up, it was clear that Brooke was skating bits and pieces from different parts of her programs. She twirled her way past them, performing a beautiful twizzle as an entrance to a triple axel.

The landing was perfect, the jump smoother than butter.

Vanjie gasped with her whole body, feeling traitorous tears threatening to fall from her eyes. Brooke was amazing.

And she was here.

To coach _her._

“Brooke Lynn Hytes. Coaching yo lil idolising ass it, bet you be shitting yourself in excitement, ‘ness,” Silky’s voice seemed far away, as Vanjie marvelled over Brooke’s footwork. The way she painted pictures onto the ice, her blades edging out tales of sadness and heartbreak.

Vanjie felt her heart break. Even if Brooke was merely skating a programme, she made the emotions real.

Fuck. Imagine being that good

“Bish, I almost swooned like one of them ladies on Downton Abbey, when I first saw her at my mamá’s,” Silky’s guffaw made her feel warm deep in her stomach, “She be askin’ if this can be our base rink, for now, that okay?”

“I woulda slapped yo ass, if yous even thought ‘bout leaving for the mainland. Of course it be okay, hoe!” Silky laid a large arm around Vanjie’s shoulder, pulling her into a comforting side hug, just as Brooke did a quad toe loop out on the ice.

The four rotations her own axis, almost unbelievable. Quads were still rare for the ladies, Brooke having blazed the way together with some Junior Russian skaters. Somehow Brooke’s growth spurt a couple of years ago hadn’t had an effect on her jumps, which was why she was still the reigning queen over the ice.

“Jesus,” Silky’s low whistle seemed correct, Vanjie finding herself nodding along agreeing with her friend's astonishment.

It was one thing seeing the quads on television, and a whole different beast to seeing them being performed live ten meters away from them.

“Yup,” Vanjie knew every programme Brooke had ever skated. Could clock the competition, score and year from any 5-second youtube clip. Being three years her senior, Brooke had already been number one in the world, at the time Vanjie reached the senior circuit. Ever since she could remember she had always played catch up.

Brooke learned a new jump, Vanjie started training it.

Brooke made a new record, Vanjie made that her goal.

She didn’t get how a shitty video of her skating her world record-breaking programme could’ve made Brooke travel all the way here. What had she done that could inspire such a legend as Hytes?

“You’re not getting back onto the ice until you get back some of those legs muscles, Vanessa,” Brooke’s voice called out jokingly right before she moved into a travelling camel spin, her form impeccable.

As she exited the spin, her face red with exertion, she looked over at Vanjie and Silky.

“I want to see legs that could kill a man,” She smiled crookedly, before gliding to the other end of the rink, leaving behind a flabbergasted Vanjie and a smirking Silky.

“Bitch is right. Ain’t jumping any quads with them chicken legs, boo,” The small bump against her shoulder, made Vanjie laugh softly.

* * *

Kiki had her doing squats, leg presses and lifting weights, leaving her limbs feeling like noodles.

“You think she just here, ‘cause just needed an excuse to be taking a break from it all?”

“Keeks! Don’t say that, I already be suspecting that on my own. I don’t need your Sherlock Holmesian booty to be thinkin’ it too,”

“Hey. You said you be continuing skatin’, Sí? Then you best use the fact that you got the world record holder in yo house. Now get squatting, Mija.” Vanjie did as she was told. Gritting her teeth and doing the work, just as she had always done.

Back when she had been a scrawny kid with too much energy, driving her mother insane, Kiki had been her dance instructor. Teaching her everything from jazz ballet to hip-hop and salsa.

It had been Kiki who had first made Vanjie give skating a go. Telling her that she might as well since she spent that much time together with Silky at the rink anyway.

Kiki had always been her biggest supporter in the typical invasive auntie way.

As Vanjie was sitting down, trying to catch her breath after Kiki had put her through her paces, Brooke came and sat down beside her, still in her training clothes. Her blonde hair was in a messy bun, and there were still a few sweat drops on her forehead.

_I want to lick them off._

Vanjie physically tried to shake the thought from her head. Finding it difficult to be face to face with her idol and what sometimes felt like a stupid high school crush.

Thankfully, Brooke seemed completely oblivious to Vanjie’s thoughts and feelings.  
“A’keria seems to run a tight ship here,” Brooke was looking around at the gym, impressed with the look of it all, though the lack of people working out must’ve caught her attention.

“Yeah, she the best. Even if she a bitch for makin’ me do pull-ups,” Vanjie still felt sore all over. Kiki hadn’t been fucking around when she said she would kick her body back in shape.

Brooke’s phone vibrated on the bench, and Vanjie caught a notification that simply said “**_Remember to post, B_**”

“Oh God,” a forlorn smile crossed Brooke’s plumb and kissable lips, as she looked over at Vanjie, after having turned off the alarm on her phone, “So Steve, my PR agent, has been after me for a while to remember my Instagram. Because I hate it. There’s just too many filters, I mean. What is the difference between Sierra, Arden and Gingham? And all these stories, lives and polls. I just. Normally I give my phone to Lyssa and make her update it, but… Well. ”

“You need help with your Insta game, Flaca? Ain’t no biggie. What we doing? Selfie, some food pics or we talking ‘bout a lil video update - bitches love liking them videos?” Vanjie tried hard to keep her laughter from escaping her lips, the idea of Brooke being confused over the technicalities of Instagram almost too much for her.

Looking through Brooke’s amazing Instagram with colourful posts of competitions, medals, training sessions and food, you wouldn’t think that she had someone else do it for her.

“Take a selfie with me? Might as well tell the world where I went,” Brooke’s raised eyebrow and shy smile was all the invitation Vanjie needed as she leaned closer, smiling at the camera and trying to suppress a shiver, as she felt warm all over at being this close to Brooke.

“Fucking Steve and his ‘the fans will like it, B - trust me’,” Brooke seemed to not notice that she was muttering to herself as she chose a filter and wrote a caption.

Everything inside of Vanjie went soft as she looked over a Brooke. It would be easier to get over her crush on Brooke, if she had been a massive and entitled jerk.

But seeing Brooke up close and realising that she was just a big ass nerd, who clearly needed friends and a hug, made Vanjie’s heart stutter with the need to be that person - perhaps even more than that.

_She was so fucked._

“‘Getting ready for a new season and a new title with @vanessavanjie #workhard’. Does that sound okay? Or is it too much?” Brooke almost shoved her phone into Vanjie’s hands, her whole demeanour the textbook definition of being done.

“One, you need to up yo emoji game. They all be calling you ice queen anyway, so put in the crown-y one together with a snowflake, and two Kiki would die if you tagged her gym,” Vanjie said, looking up at Brooke, suddenly realising that the two of them were still leaning against each other, even though the selfie was over and done.

“Yeah?” Brooke seemed to lean even closer, her large blue eyes shining with some unidentifiable emotion, Vanjie felt drawn to her, but before she had a chance to do anything, she was pulled back to reality by the sound of her phone ringing.

If she caught a flicker of disappointment in Brooke’s eyes as Vanjie answered her phone, her mother’s loud voice asking her about dinner, it was probably just a figment of her imagination.

* * *

Vanjie should have realised that the moment Brooke posted the picture the whole skating community would go insane. Reporters had flocked to her mother’s B&B asking invasive questions and trying to get a glimpse of the world champion.

It hadn’t been any better as the rink, as they all camped out, wanting to hear what Brooke’s plans were for the next season and why she had decided to suddenly spend time with Vanjie.

For a couple of weeks, Vanjie was happy that Brooke had banned her from the ice as she spent all her time at Kiki’s jump, lifting weights and doing light cardio. She felt her body get stronger and knew that she would soon reach her Grand Prix final form - though she needed to train on the ice soon to ensure that she wasn’t getting rusty.

Running to the rink in broad daylight she was met by a larger than normal group of reporters outside the skating facility. For some reason, Silky was standing outside of the entrance, blocking off everybody, waving her hands and looking like she was about the pop-off.

“Bitch. Brooke told me I'm ‘bout to get some ice action today, so you best be letting me through,” She laughed, not noticing the tense expression on Silky’s face as she backed through the doors.

“Vanj,”

“I’m about to be coached by Hytes, what even is this life?” She said as she bumped into Silky’s shoulder advancing into the foyer, leaving behind the clicks and yell from the paparazzi.

“Honestly, I find myself asking the same question. What even is this life?” The sharp tone made Vanjie look up and come face to face with a pissed off Plastique Edwards.

_What the hell was she doing there?_

Vanjie looked dumbfounded at the pissed off teenager, that was glaring daggers at her, trying to figure out what was going on. Plastique rolled her eyes at the blank look on Vanjie’s face.

“She promised me first that she’d choreograph a program for me. What did she promise you? Is this business or pleasure?” the sharp tone and angry eyes made Vanjie get into attack mode, her fists clenched and her body tight.

What was this bitch on about?

“What you talkin’ bout? We ain’t really discussed all that yet?”

“What?! You made her take a whole fucking year off to do what then?” Plastique stalked aggressively towards Vanjie, who stood her ground, not caring that the younger skater towered over her.

“Honestly, Mateo. You’re already getting her as a coach,” Her sneer turned into a mocking grin, “Though I don’t even think the legendary Brooke Lynn Hytes is going to be able to help the pathetic girl who sobbed in the toilet at the Grand Prix Final,” something in Plastique’s voice made Vanjie’s shoulders relax, her hands unclenching as she felt a small and knowing smirk cross her lips.

_This bitch be underestimating me._

“Stop smirking, Midget!”

“You want details, you best be askin’ Miss Brooke Lynn, Tiara,” Vanjie didn’t stop to wait for Plastique to follow her as she walked away from the front desk, bracing herself not only against the cold of the rink but also the sight Brooke out on the ice.

* * *

The sound of skates against ice filled the whole rink. All alone, Brooke cut an impressive figure in her signature red training gear against the white ice, her hair in a messy bun, with escaping lock flowing behind her. Gliding across the ice, her back bent in a perfect Ina Bauer, her whole silhouette was perfect. Vanjie wanted to shower the choreography with high points all over, the GOE+ even in a training session impeccable.

“Huh,” the sound of surprise from Plastique made Vanjie turn her head to look at the surly teenager, who had dropped the annoyed expression and traded it for a look of wonder, “those moves are from the short program that Brooke was practising for the next season,” Plastique seemed

“What?”

“She was already putting together programs for next season - but she was torn. Surprising the audience has always been her top priority,” out on the ice Brooke jumped a beautiful triple axel, her technique made the 3.5 rotations look effortless, “She has the whole world in her hands. But now, no matter what she does, no one’s surprised anymore,” Plastique trailed off, as they both leaned against the railing, both transfixed by the amazing skating that Brooke was performing out on the icy surface.

“Honestly. B knows better than anyone that if you don’t have any inspiration left, you might as well be dead,” Plastiques matter of fact tone, made Vanjie look at her in surprise.

This bitch means business.

“If she’s taken the season off, she might as well let me use the program. It would be a waste to use on you, anyway, you’ll just fall and cry your way through it, while I would win the Grand Prix Final,” The conviction behind the words made Vanjie lean back from the rail, seeing the almost manic and concentrated look on Plastique’s face.

“Win?” The word slipped out, almost as an afterthought, as Plastique drew in a deep breath.

“BROOKE LYNN!” The yell made Brooke stop in the middle of her intricate steps, looking up at them, a stray lock of hair falling into her eyes before she blew it away.

Her face lit up into a big smile.

“Oh, ‘stigue. What are you doing here? I’m surprised that Alyssa let you come,” Her tone indicated that she wasn’t really that surprised, in fact, Vanjie was sure that Brooke had expected her rink mate to show up, given the lack of shock on her face as she skated towards them, “So what’s up?”

The smile on Brooke’s lips slowly faded as she noticed the sulky pout on Plastique’s face, her limbs almost shaking in what seemed like barely held back rage.

“Judging from that look, I am guessing I forgot some promise I made,” Brooke’s awkward laugh made Vanjie knees weak, the shy smile on her lips way too much for her to handle, even if it seemed like Plastique was there to steal back Vanjie’s newly acquired coach.

“I should have known. You promised me that if I could win the Junior Worlds without a quad that you would choreograph me the best fucking-

“Language-” Vanjie chuckled lowly to herself at the automatic admonishment from Brooke. Her and Plastique seemed like two siblings squabbling.

It was hilarious.

“-senior debut on the whole goddamn circuit. I won junior worlds without quads, so Hytes? You better pay up!” The conviction behind Plastique’s words was heartbreaking, the thought of Vanjie already losing Brooke too much to bear.

“I forgot… You know how I am. Mind all filled up with tons of agreements, I can’t keep check up them all. Why do you think I have all these alarms on my phone?” Fishing her phone from the rail she opened it and showcased all her alarms.

Vanjie felt her eyes widen as her she looked over the amount of pre-set alarms on Brooke’s phone. The stand out was a weekly “Remember to take a day off” that made Vanjie realise narrowmindedness of every aspect of Brooke’s life. The simply fact that she had to remind herself to take a day off was almost too sad to bear.

“I am painfully aware of that. But a promise is a promise!“ Plastique seemed to have perfected the voice of a bratty and spoiled teen. A voice that Vanjie knew would earn her a slap across the back of her head with a wooden spoon from her own Mamá.

Something that had clearly never been a threat to Edwards, or else she would’ve cut it out long ago.

“You’ll choreograph my new program, B! So let’s just get back to Canada and stop this charade. Now.” The long and perfectly pink manicured finger pointed directly at Brooke Lynn’s face made Vanjie gulp down an unwanted lump of gloom that had gotten itself stuck in her throat.

She couldn’t believe that she was already losing Brooke before she had even had a chance to really get to know her and learn from her.

Brooke scratched her head, seemingly deep in thought as she mulled over the question. Her eyes kept flicking over to Vanjie as if she wanted her to say something.

What could Vanjie possibly have to say? She didn’t have no promise or a claim over Brooke’s time and skills like Plastique seemingly did.

Brooke’s eyes shimmered with a happy glow, as her head snapped up, looking over both of her spectators.

“Okay. I have an idea. Tomorrow, I’ll choreograph a program for both of you to the same music that I was going to be using for my own short program this season,” Brooke sounded ecstatic as the prospect, her hands reaching over to grab at the railing, as if her joy was too much to be contained within her own body.

_Wait a minute._

“What? The same music as her?” The pointed shouts from both Plastique and Vanjie did nothing to wipe the gleeful smile from Brooke’s lips, her eyes wide as she seemed to already be plotting the details of such an arrangement.

The idea of fighting over Brooke as a coach and choreographer was not something that Vanjie was interested in.

And skating to the same music?

_What the hell._

“Calm down, both of you. The music has several different arrangements. I’ll create different programs to both of you, of course. Honestly, what do you guys think of me? Tomorrow you’ll get the song and then we’ll figure out the programs after that. You’ll then compete to see who’ll surprise the audience it the mo-” A loud voice rang out from the staircase, a Silky looked at the three of them. Her eyes calculating with a cheeky grin on her face.

Vanjie knew that look.

That look never meant anything good.

“Listen, Miss Canada. You ain’t be using my rink if I ain’t getting in on that action. Let’s turn it into a real competition, and have an audience here too,” Brooke’s eyes managed to widen.

Trust Silky, to see a marketing opportunity in this. Shady business bitch.

Vanjie wanted to crumble up and die. The idea of competing against the reigning Junior World Champion already making her insides shrivel and her palms sweaty.

But then to add in an audience. Hell, no.

“How ‘bout y’all just calm yo tatas and take a minute. I ain’t getting screwed over for losing to toddlers and tiara over the-

“Brooke will do whatever the winner says! I am only competing if those are terms,” The combination of the gleeful expressions on Plastique and Silky’s faces coupled with the heart eyes on Brooke’s perfect face, was too much.

Vanjie knew she had lost.

“I love that sort of thing!” Brooke’s lilting voice and shimmering eyes sealed the deal. Vanjie had to go through with this competition.

Hopefully, she would win, if nothing else, then just to give herself the chance of seeing that happy face on Brooke again.

_God, that was all she needed._

* * *

  
The empty rink probably felt scary to most people. The sound of the cooling system combined with the sharp sound of blade against ice the only ambience provided in the artificially lit rink.

Vanjie had sneaked off to the rink after begrudgingly helping Plastique getting settled into the B&B. The idea of having her competitor that close, and on her home turf almost had made her feel jittery. As if she couldn’t even relax at home.

So she had left.

How could she stand a chance against Plastique? Vanjie was no fool, she had kept an eye on the junior circuit, wanting to be prepared for the talent that would join her next year.

She had seen Plastique’s astonishing talent. Her large jumps and technical precision. Vanjie had been scared shitless.

Vanjie knew that musical interpretation and overall performance was her speciality. She loved edgework, loved to showcase her feelings when she skated, the idea of just going through the motions, not something that Vanjie had ever thought of doing.

Alexis has once, in a rare moment of genuine praise, stated that Vanjie was “unapologetic authentic,” - a compliment that Vanjie has wrapped up tight in her heart, always remembering it when she had a bad day.

Plastique on the other hand? She… skated. Sometimes she showcased some vague ideas of emotions. A few moments of going beyond the technical perfection of her jumps.

But performance wasn’t her thing.

She was a technique hoe, whereas Vanjie was a performance bitch.

How were they ever supposed to compete against each other fairly?

Slowly drawing figures on the ice, Vanjie felt her anxiety release her limbs, her lungs able to take in air while her heartbeat slowed down. The routine of doing intricate figures on the ice, the fastest way to bring her back to earth and out of her ADHD mind.

She just needed Brooke to give her a chance. Vanjie knew that she could surprise everyone with Brooke’s guidance.

* * *

The awkward silence between Vanjie and Plastique had plagued them every since Brooke had woken them both at the crack of dawn, forcing them to run over to the rink. Vanjie had gotten used to run with the added soundtrack of Brooke’s off-key singing, while Plastique seemed both annoyed and disgusted at the display of such cheerfulness that early in the morning.

Sitting next to each other and carefully lacing up their skates in the empty locker room, Vanjie felt her whole body vibrate with excitement.

No matter what. Today would be the day where Brooke would finally begin her training. Even if the ice queen was to leave for colder weather after the competition, Vanjie would still have this moment to keep.

This moment of recognition.

From her goddamn idol and hero.

Plastique seemed less impressed and far more annoyed, as she angrily did up her skates. Her whole demeanour a testament to her furious state of mind.

Still, Vanjie had to hand it to her. She was quiet in her rage, a skill that Vanjie - four years her senior - had yet to acquire.

As they walked down to the ice, side by side, they were met by a cheerful Brooke. Her red cheeks indicating that she had skated a couple of laps before they had arrived. In her hand was a small pink Bluetooth speaker.

“Finally! Okay. Wow. So I spent the whole night going over the different arrangements and settled on these.” Her excitement was cute. The words almost tumbling on top of each other, in her hurry to explain everything.

“Here we go,” Brooke tapped the screen of her phone and a beautiful and airy soprano voice filled the whole rink.

The music was light but solemn. It reminded Vanjie of Sunday mass with her Abuela. The weight of worn and beautiful rosary. The heavy smell of incense and the tight grip of that wrinkled hand.

Vanjie could see the moves, see the choreography before her.

_This was her piece._

“This piece comes in two arrangements, each with a different theme: Agape and Eros. Have any of you ever thought about love?”

“Nope!” Plastique sounded every bit the teenager, looking over her manicure, indifferent to Brooke’s enthusiasm.

Vanjie merely shook her head.

“Okay… then what do you feel when you listen to this music?” Brooke questioned them both, though Plastique kept on looking down at her nails, the music boring her.

“Sunday mass with my Abuela. All churchy and innocently, like a puppy or somethin’,” The snort from Plastique made Vanjie turn to glare at her, where she was met by an eye-roll almost seemed painful in its execution.

“It’s crap. Who gives a shit about innocence, B? It makes me want to throw up. We’ve all seen these programs,” Vanjie wanted to hit the other girl.

Disrespectin’ the talent, what the shit, Tiara?

Brooke seemed used to Plastique’s tone, as she merely clicked her tongue and changed the song.

“Okay, then. How about this?” Her voice was challenging as the lilting chords of a Spanish guitar filled the rink. It reminded Vanjie of a tango. The seducing tones making her heart beat faster. She could see this choreography too.

The sway of a hip, an enticing arm movement that would enchant the audience.

The music was beautiful in a bold and mature way.

Vanjie could feel Plastique’s interest and knew that Eros was clearly for her. She would never be able to do the number justice, whereas the Junior World Champion had a big enough personality to carry Brooke choreography. No doubt turning it into something worth watching.

Vanjie could do Agape.

She would do it well.

“Brooke! This is mine!” The determination behind Plastique’s words made Vanjie smile wryly. She was almost jumping on the ice with pure excitement.

Bitch is gon’ kill the season with the program.

A small tingle of sadness started to flow through Vanjie’s body. That would mean that she would lose Brooke.

Fuck.

“As you’ve probably guessed, these are opposing theme. The first piece is called On Love: Agape and has the theme of unconditional love. Think religion or the love of a parent,” Unconsciously, Vanjie nodded. That had been her own interpretation, and she was ready to give it a go.

Brooke was unreadable, as she looked over both Plastique and Vanjie. Other than her own excitement over the programs, she was giving nothing away.

“And this piece is On Love: Eros. The theme is seduction. A more sexual love.” Plastique was nodding vigorously, while Vanjie felt herself gulp.

She was going to lose this.

“Vanessa. I’ll have you skate to Eros and ‘Stique you’ll get Agape,” for a single second everything was quiet as Vanjie and Plastique tried to understand the words that just left Brooke’s mouth.

And then both Vanjie and Plastique started yelling loudly, their complaints almost indistinguishable.

“Agape? That’s like super pretentious and so not my brand, Brooke-”

“I ain’t okay with all this seducicing, Hyt-”

“-As if little miss single Axel over here could ever do Eros justi-”

“-Bitch, who the hell you be calling single axel with your level two step seque-”

“Enough!” Brooke’s voice rang out, making both of them stop. Vanjie’s palms felt sweaty palms, her anger at Tiara mentioning her popped Axel, making her ready to jump the taller girl.

_Bitch comes to my country and dares to be that hateful._

“You have to do the opposite of what people expect. How else will you surprise them? That’s my motto,” Brooke sounded unamused and almost bored of their antics, as she stood before them. Wearing her skates, she towered over both of them, making her presence imposing even 5 meters away, “actually, you’re both far more ordinary and mediocre than you think. You need to be more self-aware.” The insult felt like a punch to the stomach, despite Brooke’s easy smile and simple shrug.

The hiss from Plastique indicated that she too was feeling the sting from the words.

“Honestly. I am surprised you two think that you can just choose your image,” her voice was light and airy, though it did nothing to take out the sting of the harsh truths that Brooke was spilling, “from the audience's perspective you’re just an angry toddler and a tiny chihuahua.”

Chihuahua?

_Biiiiiiitch._

“If you aren’t up to my standards by next week, I won’t waste my time choreographing a program for either of you,” Brooke slowly skated over to the rail to put down her phone, seemingly not caring that she was leaving both of them gaping at her casual dismissal, “but then again. Both of you are fast learners and fans of mine, so I’m sure that you’ll both manage”

“Fine. I’ll skate to agape. My debut depends on it. But I swear, B. You better give me a programme that’ll make me win.” Plastique’s voice was loud and demanding, though Brooke was unfazed.

“If I skated it, I would win?” her shrug was dismissive - and her words were true. They all knew it.

“If I win, you’re coming back with me to Canada, and you’ll be my coach. Those are my terms,”

“Sounds fair. What about you, Vanessa? What would you like to do if you win?” Brooke’s eyes were searching her as if there was something she wanted - no needed - Vanjie to say.

“I wanna eat bowls of Arroz y habichuelas with you,” Vanjie’s words were slow as if she couldn’t really articulate perfectly what she wanted. Brooke gave her an encouraging nod, willing Vanjie to keep ongoing.

“I wanna keep winning, so I can keep on eating that,” The glint in Brooke's eyes showed Vanjie that she not only understood what she was saying, but that she approved, “Miss Hytes, you best believe that imma skate to Eros. I’ll give it all the fucking Eros I gots!” Vanjie clenched her fist, feeling so pumped up that she could probably slap a bitch or two.

“That’s what I like to hear!”

There it was again.

Those goddamn heart eyes.

_Vanjie was fucked. _

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to the TheArtificialDane my fanfic wife, goodest Judy and team clown friendo. 
> 
> Without her I would not be writing this. No really... She forced me you guys. 
> 
> A special thanks to Thorpe who beta'ed most of this. 
> 
> And also. Hello BarbieHytes... You spoiled lil shit.


End file.
